Surely, this week has to go down on record as being one of the worst in a long time for me. The only things that have really seen me get through it are the support of my family, friends, and Ant. Michael, as both friend and boss has been wonderful and giving me the space I need although i'm sure he would really appreciate all hands on deck at Artisan. Ant has really been there 110% as well, which has been great.
The unfortunate news is that there is nothing that the doctors can do, and sadly, Mark is unlikely to survive past the weekend. We had a doctors meeting tonight at the hospital, which threw me somewhat. Ant and I missed yesterdays one due to heavy traffic, arriving to find a very shaken and upset family who passed on the news that, basically, there was nothing that the doctors could do and that Mark was going to die. I had asked Ant if he would mind if I went in to see Mark by myself, and was very tearful as I said my goodbyes to him and thanked him for being a wonderful brother. I've spent so much time this past week at the Royal Melbourne, and I have to say that the staff there have been absolutely wonderful, answering questions and offering support every step of the way.
But the doctors meeting today really threw me. It might sound odd, but the consistent use of the word 'harvest' was really upsetting me. Mark has put himself down as an organ doner, and while I am sure it is a technically correct and logical word to use, the thought of my brother being discussed as body parts was a little too much for me to deal with. However, I agree that if his kidney, heart or liver can help save another persons life and not put another family through what we're experiencing, it would be a wonderful thing. However, half way through the meeting, having heard what I needed to hear and really being put off with the word 'harvesting', I needed to leave the room.
I felt more composed today though, and more reconciled to the fact that Mark has gone. He might be breathing in a bed in hospital, but I know that the Mark I knew isn't going to come back. But over this week, i've had more and more memories flood back to me, consoling me. Mark took me to my first ever rock concert; INXS at Festival Hall, 1986. I was 13 at the time, and Mark took me along with his girlfriend. Again, Mark encouraging my love of music.
Last night, I had gone back to Colin and Deb's with Mum and spent some time relaxing there. Tonight, we decided that the family should meet back at Mum and Dad's place. This is where the other unfortunate part of my week occured.
Literally no more than a few minutes away from my parents place, a car of four teenagers took a corner sharply, lost control of their car, and smashed right into mine, taking out the front drivers side. I was remarkably calm about it all, although I did think, as I could see the car swerving uncontrollably towards me and fearing my own safety, "this is going to really give Mum the shits..." The girl who hit my car, 18 years old and on her P plates, was physically upset about the whole experience. After all that had happened this week, I was a little too drained to be too upset, and since no one seemed hurt, thought this was the most important thing. My immediate reaction was to phone my brother-in-law Sid, since I thought phoning Mum would upset her and felt that Sid was the right man to ask for assistance. Leanne answered, and moments later, Sid, Russell, Colin and Vanessa all arrived to assist. Two cars kindly offered themselves up as witnesses too, and the car that I scraped (we're not sure if it was just prior to or on impact) remained to swap details and chat.
Ironically, as we were driving away from the Royal Melbourne tonight, a woman flew her car infront of me, and once quick breaks saved Ant and I from hitting this stupidly blind wench. Strangely, I was more upset about her than I was about the later accident, even though the reckless driving was equally as pointless and pathetic.
Once I did finally get to mum and dad's, the atmosphere was light and full of laughter. We toasted Pep (Mark's nickname), and let him know he will be missed. We talked about so many past stories, which i'm sure gave Ant some more insight into this bizarre family he has found his way into. Mum and Dad kindly lent Ant and I one of their cars so that I could get Ant home for work tomorrow (this) morning, and I promised to get it back to them tomorrow, after Sid has a chance to look at the damage on my car and decide from there.
I'm sure the next few days are going to be equally tough. Tomorrow, they turn everything off with Mark, and leave it to see how he reacts. Mum and Dad indicated that they won't be going back to the hospital, but if I can sneak one more visit in, I will. The full horror of this week hasn't really sunk in, but long after it has and gone, the memory of my brother Mark will always be with me.
